


Just A Coffee

by TuckersLaw



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Because I love those two in humans au, F/M, Human!Doctor, Human!Missy, alternative universe, some aliens in the mix tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6368227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuckersLaw/pseuds/TuckersLaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missy Saxon walks into a coffee shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boring things happen to boring people

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! first time I post my work here in AO3 :)   
> English isn't my native language, so if there are any mistakes, you can point them out. And also that means this hasn't been beta-ed.   
> This is already written and, if things go right, I'll upload each chapter on saturdays :).  
> Sorry if things don't make sense or looks weirdly written.

Missy Saxon was starting to hate tea.

She was Scottish, yes, and she had all the rights to complain on things and she could do it either in her harsh, thick, scottish accent, or a normal, more understable british accent. To be fair, the first one was more scary, more enjoyable too. 

Anyway, now she was complaining on tea. She needed something stronger to drink at this point of her life. And she won't like to be drunk forever in vodka or tequila, so coffee was the second best option. Quitting her job and running away was the third option to make a change in her life. As a fourth option she had the idea of just getting a haircut and change her wardrobe. Maybe getting a tattoo would mean a change too. And pain. No, no more painful things. 

With that being said, she decided to try new types of said beverage than the boring black sugarless coffee everyone asked for in the meetings at work. Boring people with boring black and navy blue suits. Boring papers, always with phones in hand, ready to shout at anyone, frantic legs running around her office and why not? Stupid people making her job even more complicated than it was already. Decent payment, yeah, and the receptionist girl was good though, always smiling (how can she do it? is beyond Missy), There were a few respectable people but it wasn’t definitely what she dreamt of when she was a little girl. She wanted more of life, and being in a small office surrounded by these people wasn’t enough for her.

She noticed that sometimes the men she went on dates with asked for that kind of coffee too. And those men were boring, with dull conversations and creepy hobbies and even creppier mannerisms. If she recalled correctly, the creepier the man, the less chance he had of her going with him after the boring date. Not that she was that kind of woman, no. But after all, she wanted to get some attention. Maybe looking harder she could find a proper man. Or maybe it was the way of life to tell her that she should remain single and do something else. Like...changing her job, for example. Receptionist girl can be stuck on that boring building forever.

Boring was the word she must used in her vocabulary. Her life got boring with a silly job she wasn’t exactly pleased with, and her old, grumpy dog she loved dearly and horrible aunts that always asked where the new boyfriend was, what did he look like, (no one stopped to ask if there was a HE), or when would she start buying wedding magazines. "My boyfriend? Long way from here enjoying a mexican beach I suppose" that's what she always wanted to reply. She may do it though. Not today. But one day. In the next family meeting. If she got the strenght to go to the next. Everyone already having what they called “a complete life” with big houses and a wife or husband, lots of noisy children who seemed to be in an eternal sugar rush and pets. Missy can stand all kind of pets, she even had a parrot when she had 10. But kids? A big no. She even felt like children ran away from her. It could be because of her fierce blue eyes and cheekbones. Maybe that. 

And yet it was another boring day. She woke up. She had a quick breakfast (just a slice of toast) and then she drove to work. She greeted everyone and just sat in her very antique chair (antique because it was anything but comfortable) and started to make her usual phone calls. She had lunch and suddenly it was two minutes past five when she noticed she could finally say goodbye to the only person at work she considered a true friend, Seb. Quite naive and young boy, with pale skin and brownish eyes, Missy felt it was her duty to make him strong in this kind of work, he was a gentle lamb that could be eaten up by the wolves, unless, as she somehow expected, Little Seb turned out to be the Wolf dressed up as lamb. 

Seb had a very good imagination, which helped sometimes with the daily tasks at hand, but sometimes, when he was asked something by the boss, his responses were so childish the entire building would be laughing at him for at least a week. But she could see it in his eyes. He was well educated, never swearing, always on time, and rarely speaking to others, only if it was necessary. He was going to shine someday, slap everyone on the face with the fact that he was far better. Missy hoped he really would.   
Still on Monday, a very boring day, and being finally able to get some rest and better food, she decided to do something else than go home and when she pulled out the parking lot of her work building, she drove to one of the most quiet streets she knew of the city.

Even though it was still early something inside her was nervous. Like those famous butterflies in the stomach. It's been so long since Missy Saxon felt them. But no, these aren't butterflies. But something else is twisting inside her. Like the emotion of the unknowing. Like those christmas mornings where you knew you had gifts under the tree yet you don’t know what they are. 

Missy felt today like she was in christmas morning. She knew, kind of imagined, she would find something new, exciting and attractive in life, yet she didn’t know what she would find. Or what to expect anyway. It was a sensation very common in life, yet humans always tend to forget the good things and only think about the negative points of life. Which is negative all by itself. Why this constant need to torture ourselves?. Missy was certain that the human brain is way too powerful to play tricks and that this trick of thinking on finding the worst was the cruelest trick of the mind.

And it's not like she deprived herself from the “excited butterflies”, is just that she hadn't found a man to make her feel them in a long time. Or anything else in life. No new Friends, nothing new to do at her office, and no new tricks to teach her dog to do. Poor little thing is way too old to go around jumping on the park just to make children laugh. Just like Missy, this particular animal wasn’t fond of small humans.

While the butterflies went on and about and Missy’s mind went running in circles, she decided she wanted to meet a man. Mind you, not any man. She wanted one that could make her feel like she was on fire and he was the only one capable of extinguish it or....well...burn with her. Yeah, that would be better. A man like her that wouldn't mind to burn and destroy everything on its path. That sounds even better. Destroying is always good, even if it means just “murdering” a pillow with a kitchen knife.  
She pulled on a street that caught her attention, first destination be damned. It was old-looking, with grey and brown tall buildings, flats surely. But in the middle of the street, there was a small colourful two-floors place, which made her get out the car and decide to explore the place walking. It was just a few meters away and doing some walking couldn’t hurt.

"Twelve Cups" was written above the door of the small coffee shop in front of her, looking inviting and having low moviment. Mysterious and exciting at the same time. Jazz music echoing through the windows, she decided to get inside and she was greet by the smell of fresh chocolate mixing with strawberries and faintly red wine. A few tables scattered through the space and stairs on the left corner leading to a second floor, the walls were adorned to look like wood but also had hanging paintings of space and watch engines. To her right was the center of the place, big machines working and making sound and a small exhibitor of cakes and cookies, a stand beside with bottled water and at the other side, next to the water there was a bookshelf full of classic novels and some titles she didn't recognize.

She walked back to make her order and a young brunette with a british accent smiled at her.

-"Hello! May i take your order? We have a good deal today!". The girl pointed above her head to a blackboard were was written "Buy the beverage of the month! Get a free a bag of cookies".

Missy nodded and smiled politely and quite excited. This gave her a good signal.

-"Good, i take the deal, since it's my first time here and i don't know what to order"

The girl's eyes opened wide ("wait...is it posible?") Missy thought when she spoke again.

-"Your first time here? Then we have something for you...wait here!...Doctor! We have a new one!"

The chick ran to the insides of the shop and came back pulling by the arm a long legged (sexy, very sexy) man with poor fashion sense who just looked to be awake for the last five minutes with all that fluffy silver hair and thick eyebrows which looked ready to attack at the given signal.

-"Hello, my name is John Smith and welcome to the Twelve cups".

Great, a scottish man with boring name. Do you really think Scotland is boring?.


	2. Keep it Simple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thanks for the kudos and comments (some I got in my personal fb haha).  
> Chapter two as promised, I hope you lot like it. I feel it quite short...but it adds to the suspense hahaha.  
> Reviews totally welcome! <3

To be honest, he was handsome. No. That word doesn't do him justice.

The way his eyes shined was something that made her feel special, like she was the first and most precious thing he has ever seen in his entire life. And it may scare her a bit. Just a tiny bit. This man looked at her like if they were lovers in past lives and she couldn’t remember the passion.

John extended his hand politely at Missy and repeated his name, maybe that way she wouldn't forget it. It was just so...boringly common. But there was nothing common or boring about his face. The eyebrows definitely were the center of his face. Wait, no, rubbish. His eyes. Blue and green and grey and Missy felt like she could get lost in them for the rest of her life. Boring name but excepcional face. Strangely, his name fit him though. Lips squeezed thight as if holding a powerful secret inside, yet his face was...friendly? Oh dear, Missy was already losing it in front of him. 

-"Hello, I'm John Smith. Very nice to meet you".

-"I'm Missy. Missy Saxon. The pleasure is mine".

If it was possible, sparks flew when their skin came in contact. She noticed his long, elegant fingers wrap around her petite hand and squeezed, his short nails and...there was it. A golden ring with a green stone set. Of course the bloody man had to be married, but what a strange ring to wear. It was obvious the wife choose it.  
Quickly, look around. There must be a sign of the woman.

And right behind him, with those impossibly brown large eyes (they got wider!), short hair and a pretty red blouse, the smiling girl that greeted her was standing firmly, watching with pure fascination how this man interacted with her. Weird. But, of course he wouldn't be alone (“not everyone is like you” her mind whispered) and he took the nicest,most british girl he could find. Damn him. And her too.

Missy squeezed his hand back gently and retrieved back her arm to just let it hang to her side, a pang of rage, jealousy and hate running through her body, but she had to calm the expression on her face. So just a nice smile would have to do. Some coffee and then rush the hell out this place. To forget about the cosmic eyebrows and the nice looking girl with big eyes and this place that made her feel like she was just coming home. Damn feelings!

-"I just came for some coffee John, I'm not sure why the fuss about it being my first time coming to this place, I can promise you that if i like it I'll come back frequently..."

-"I'm sure you read the name of the shop, Missy. Twelve Cups is an idea I had in mind for a long time. What we drink, eat and do is what define us, with time I learnt to decipher the mood of the people that walked in and asked for a cuppa." He pointed to the girl behind. "Clara here, helps me to attend the clients and when someone new comes, we offer them a drink based on a small chat from the list of twelve beverages we have. It is on the house by the way"

-"Are you telling me you will get inside my mind to see what kind of coffee is better for my inner demons?. Definitely a new and creative way to break the ice." Missy said with a small air of irony.

-"Well, if you want I can include alcohol to the list of things to offer you".

This man had the cheek to smile. The last thing Missy needed was a random bloke to psychoanalyze her. Also he was married (or at least engaged) so she wouldn't get anything more from this experience than a free coffee. How boring. B-O-R-I-N-G, her mind screamed again.

-"And..if you don't find a beverage for me? what happens?"

-"Well, then you order whatever you fancy, pay for it and choose to drink it here or go home".

Clara touched his shoulder and grinned right to Missy.

-"But we have liked you, so if you don't find your cuppa today, your drink is on us".

Fuck. Fuck. The damned girl is so lucky and she had to rub it on her face.

-"Fine, I accept. Just because her eyes got wider begging me".

-"Her eyes always do that, I have told her to stop".

John winked at her and taking her arm he led her to a small table on the opposite corner of the stairs, it was perfect to chat without worrying for anyone else hearing. Not that she was afraid he would ask to get in her pants. Such thing wouldn’t happen in this place.

-"So, Missy, tell me about yourself. Why is such a beautiful woman like you alone at six in the afternoon."

-"Well, to start my name was a random thing because my parents were quite hippies and wanted something original for their baby girl. It gets awkward...you know...Miss Missy. In my work they call me Miss M, which sometimes is good. Clients don’t know if they are dealing with a male or female, and it gives me some power over them."

John smiled, his blue-grey eyes looking her all over, making her feel a faint blush creep its way up her cheeks. Married man, by the way.

-"I was born in Ayr, some years ago...quite a lot, but at some point, I decided to move here, to Glasgow to find a better life. I liked being a simple girl, but I always wanted more of life, and I think I have got it all". The capacity of this man to make her tell him her life is extremely alarming. But she knows he will see through the small lie.

Love at first sight was the only true thing going through her head, and at that moment what rang the bells inside Missy's head is that now, beyond her innocent intentions of changing her life, she wanted John Smith to be that change. And little Clara was in her way to make it happen. She didn't like that. John's eyes were looking at her with some sort of love, like a boy that has found a puppy outside school and now wants to keep it claiming it followed him back home. John Smith, even with that boring name was fascinating and making her want to know more, but as she was just about to ask him to tell him anything, he spoke.

-"Well, being simple but wanting more of life is quite contradicting. I don't like simple stuff. I like riddles. I like finding a solution. My mind is always working, always moving and always making me move. It's been so long since I last moved. This shop is what keeps me here on my feet, Clara has always told me I should go and travel the world, but you know, this shop is like my child. I have seen it evolve in front of my very own eyes, since I started with two tables and four chairs, and now having this and simply abandoning it? It would make my life simple. As simple as my name".

Missy laid her hand on the table, her white, small hand with perfectly painted nails, long and red, making an invitation to John Smith to touch it, which of course he did.

This woman was something he has never seen before in his life. Black hair contained in a tight high ponytail, her work clothes too obscure and her bright blue eyes, with that small mouth painted red too, her eyes were wild, but at the same time lost. As if she has been looking for something her whole life and she hasn't found it. She was beautiful in her own way, an exquisite body curved in the right places...Oh no...let's not go there...you have just met her and you are already thinking in...No, No. John swore after Melody's death he wouldn't let another woman too close to his heart. Nor his bed, whichever is the case.

But the woman right before him was a book begging to be opened and explored, maybe with extra white pages inside in which he could paint the most lustful scenes with the same tone of red of her lipstick. Only if she let him...Oh John has it really been that long? You’ve gone all poetic in a fraction of seconds and this woman is speaking up so freely about her life and you just want to know her bedroom? Bad, bad John. Now, pay attention back to Missy!.

-"Since I was a kid I wanted more of life too. I felt as if I deserved it, I was a good boy, good son and good student, the mothers of my friends would always point at me and say "why can't you be like John eh?". Everyone replied that they didn't want to be boring. And I kept being the first boy of the class until I was 14. I discovered some old punk records of my dad and...you can imagine the rest of the story".

-"John Smith left behind the good boy everyone loved..." Missy giggled, lacing her fingers with his.

-"Exactly. Young, angelical John Smith cut his hair too short and dyed it the blackest black he could find. Suddenly I had a bad reputation, people said I was using drugs I didn't even know they existed and dad gifted me his old guitar. I made friends until I was 16. Mum wasn't too happy but my dad would always try to explain to our neighbors that it was just a phase. The phase lasted until I was 20, I had formed a band and we played in all kinds of pubs. Coming home late, meeting all kinds of people you can imagine, watching them be one person and then changing the facade in a second. The whole world was moving too quick."

-"You had one hell of a ride. I envy you more now."

-"After the band got dissolved and I turned 23, I realised I didn't study a career and my neighbors now had boring degrees and some got married. So, as I wasn't good for maths or other things, I became a psychiatrist to try and help people".

-"What happened then? you got bored of mad people?".

-"Oh no, I realised I was mad too. But people never come to see a psychiatrist willingly, so I had to find another way to make money and eat. This is the best I came with".

Missy smiled, knowing now that John Smith could be anything except boring. The spark in his eyes as he spoke of his youth, and the excitement over the coffee shop left her a little breathless, realising she didn't have much in life to feel happy for. Getting a degree in International Business and ending up in an old, busy company wasn't what she had in mind but life doesn't always turns good to everyone, and she learnt it the hard way.

At that moment, John lifted his hand and made a sign to Clara to come over, the girl walked over to them with her big smile (and now normal eyes. Jesus...it was starting to freak Missy out. Maybe she should stop looking her in the face. Would save her the embarrassment.)

-"How can I help you John? have you found her beverage?"

John smirked, squeezing Missy's hand again and turning his head to Clara, he spoke the most damned words Missy could imagine.

-"Oh yes, bring her a black coffee. Colombian if we still have some. The lady over there needs to keep things simple".

Oh, the damn cheek this man had. He so was going to pay for this one.


	3. And You Said Hello

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay! I know I was meant to post on saturday but life gets in the middle so...ah!  
> I have another prompt to fullfil with Peter/Reader, don't worry, I'll post it soon!  
> Enjoy!  
> All reviews are welcome :)

After Clara brought Missy the coffee, she drank it way too quickly for her own liking, burning her tongue and throat in the process, but the thing was it good. Definitely she needed it to feel better. But just as she was finishing, she wondered how would taste a beverage made by him. And while he was thinking of her. Jesus...her mind was going crazy in seconds.

John had just water while they stayed on the table, leaving Clara to attend the customers alone. But John didn't care (or it seems) as he was far more interested in keeping the chat with Missy.

-"You didn't answer one of my questions...what are you doing alone here?".

-"Easy to reply. I don't have anyone to come with. Unless you accept dogs".

-"If it's a small dog then yes, and of course, well behaved, we can't have anything dirty here".

-"Don't worry about that, my darling old girl loves getting to know new people. And getting belly rubs from strangers. She can spend the whole afternoon in her small bed, so don’t worry about that."

-"I love meeting new people too. In fact, I'm enchanted to have met you...but I'm not a dog...That would make things awkward, don’t you think?."

Missy couldn't help but chuckle, this man was insanely adorable and she liked that, but things ran faster on her mind than anything else. First of all, why is he flirting with her? I mean...the wife/girlfriend/concubine/or whatever Clara is for him, is standing right there a few meters away and the man has the nerve to flirt with a woman that appeared out of the blue? Wrong in so many levels. Oh who is she lying to, she loves this flirting.

Yes of course, Missy loved getting this attention from this man. Also, he's scottish. And we all know people from Scotland have all the right in the world to do whatever they want. She says so as a scottish woman herself. It’s her way of saving explanations about her decisions and actions. No one ever dared to make her more questions.

John looked up at her and smiled again, that was when she noticed his teeth, (why is she looking at his teeth with so much interest? If she is being honest, all of this man is getting interesting for her.) and the lines around his mouth when he smiled. For Missy, it was the cutest thing about a man she could see. The little details that spoke about good times in the past. She bets John is still having the time of his life. Having everything he needed. His own place, a woman next to him and it seemed like the perfect life everyone would dream of, because it doesn’t seems that little of a dream. In its own way, Twelve Cups looked like the biggest dream accomplished.

-"Well, I guess I don't have to ask if you are alone. Clara is such a gorgeous girl, she looks at you in pure devotion...it makes me definitely envy you more. Which isn’t nice."

His eyes widened and his right eyebrow lifted just as she finished the sentence. She wanted to continue but..Nope. Not a good sign. What was there to hide then?.

-"Clara is gorgeous yes, but we're not together in that way. She is the daughter of a good friend of mine that passed away some months ago. I watched Clara grow up, she's like...like a cool niece to me. She's the one that helped me establish this place. She's very patient with me and loves this place as much as I do, but she once told me she wanted to teach. She loves kids because she's still a kid herself. And so, at some point I'll watch her go too...".

Too?.

Oh. Bad signal again!.

-"But she...she looks at you in admiration and love...and that ring on your hand..."

-"Ah, the ring. Yes. It's a sad and passionate love story actually and I don't want to bother you with it. And I assure you. There's nothing between me and Clara. It would be creepy, and...weird. No. Definitely Clara isn’t my type."

A sad story behind a ring? Was the man left at the altar? Or maybe he is gay and there's a guy somewhere waiting for him? Way to shatter your own dreams Missy...Why does she always have to go down the negative route?. Jesus, give yourself some expectations and hopes!.

-"I had three girlfriends during my punk stage of life that I considered very important, but there was one girl that captivated me the most. Or maybe it was the hair. She looked like a lioness and every morning we were late because of how long it took her to tame it. Of course we got married and her parents had a scream to all heavens. Oh the Ponds, such weird family in their own ways."

-"What happened? Why do you talk about her in past sense?".

He simply smiled and nodded, licking his lips and looking down at his lap, then back up to face her.

-"We had a daughter. I think I got Melody pregnant on the very night of our honeymoon. We were happy. We watched her grow up and become a beautiful young lady. But good things in life never last forever. One day Melody had to go on an expedition, she was an archeologist. They were faced with irregular things and sudden climate changes and no one survived. Two weeks of mission to lose it all in a few hours. Some say they got locked inside the tomb they were exploring, as a part of the curse, but I felt it right in my heart that she wasn't here anymore. Telling Amelia her mother wasn't coming home was the hardest part of it all. She lives now in Leadworth with Amy and Rory, Melody's parents. I visit her every weekend, I ask her to come to live with me but she doesn't want to. Her dream is to follow Amy's path and become a model too. And I bet my coffee shop that my daughter will be known everywhere. Mark my words, Missy Saxon. The world will know who Amelia Smith is."

John couldn't avoid the few tears that rolled down his cheeks and Missy handed him a napkin, biting her lip, watching him pour his heart out in front of her. She felt so sorry for him, Why does he have to be alone if he's such a good person?.

-"I...I am sorry John, I didn't want you to remember all of this..."

-"I made her a funeral even if there wasn't a body. I couldn't say goodbye to her without it. She deserved it. She deserved everything good in life...and she was perfect to me..."  
-"John...don't torture yourself please, Melody wouldn't like to see you in this state..."

-"That's what everyone says...John calm down because Melody hates seeing you cry, John please keep going for Amelia and Melody...no one was there to tell me: John, cry all you need to. Your bloody wife just died and you can cry all what you want".

-"Then do it, John Smith. Cry the death of your wife and keep going for Amelia and for yourself. Don't be so hard on you. It wasn't your fault. But if you have to do it, then cry. Mourn her".

He looked down at his lap, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat and smiled softly, letting the tears run down his cheeks freely.

-"Thank you, Missy Saxon. Thank you for being here".

-"You're welcome John. We all need to get the pain out of our system at some point".

He extended his arm to reach for her hand, which he took gently and squeezed it, smiling and ending up grinning.

-"You know what Missy? I think you should come every day after work so we can have a long chat about life and death and cats and-"

-"Oh John please, I'd love to! But you have to attend this place as well! Look at poor Clara all busy and...well, this is new, kissing customers..."

Missy's eyes widened slightly, Clara was laughing as one tall man with dark skin hugged her tightly and lifted her off the floor, kissing her with happiness.

-"Yes I know...Danny started as a normal customer that came about one or two days per week, suddenly he came every day...and one day he and Clara were kissing passionately against the bookshelf. I'm just waiting for them to have kids to tell them this story".

-"You can't do that, you daft man!". She tried to scold him but ended up laughing with him, rather loudly and catching the attention of the young couple.  
John stopped grinning when Danny walked over to him and stood up.

-"Good afternoon sir, I hope the spectacle was good for you and your friend".

-"Hush now soldier, we were laughing because of a good joke. She is Missy Saxon, a new customer".

Missy stood up as well and smiled politely then extended her hand to him.

-"Hello, I'm Danny Pink, and you may have already noticed but I'm Clara's boyfriend".

-"And an ex soldier, don't forget that part".

Danny stared at John and nodded, squeezing Missy's hand and dropping it.

-"Of course not sir, I will always be a soldier that fought for the United Kingdom".

The tension was felt, just on the surface, but it was still present. This place must be some kind of dramatic book written by Shakespeare with characters hiding things but with noble hearts. God help us this doesn’t have a bad ending.

Danny smiled one last time and nodded before going back to Clara.

-"What was that John?".

-"He's a good man. I guess…? But I have never liked soldiers. He has seen things I wish Clara never will have to see".

Missy stayed silent, finishing her drink and closing her eyes.

-"You owe me a drink made by you darling, I'd like one of those sugary things that teens like".

-"That bloody starbucks stuff? Ask Clara, she may do something for you...but not me".

-"Aww, not even for me? How meanie love".

The way she could call him every pet name she can come with amazed her, and the way he reacted to it. He loved getting her attention as well, and Missy couldn't deny and definitely she was attracted just as attracted as her, the way his eyes sparkled...(she had learnt to ready the body signs in men, to know when a date could be successful or when she had to run away and fast).

And John Smith was definitely the ideal man for a date.

Oh it was a sad moment when Missy had to say goodbye at 8:30 p.m. because the way home was long, and if she stayed more time here she would have no choice but to kidnap John and take him home with her.

John hugged her goodbye and whispered in her ear, the scene of his shaving lotion filling her senses. 

-"Come back soon dear".

-"Of course, if I could I would come everyday".

She smiled at him and he just replied with a wink. Oh this man was too gorgeous...of course she's coming back soon.

The next day, she had the same routine, wake up, get up, get ready for work, feed the doggy, go to work, smile to all the idiots, calm Seb down because he spilled his coffee all over important papers (again...and again...and again) and eat something to entertain the hunger. Keep checking facebook from time to time, try to find the Great John Smith on there (of course the man wouldn't waste time social media, but, anyway, let's give it a shot. Also, trying to find Amelia Smith was hard, especially not knowing what she looked like.) And pretending to work just filling forms and re sending emails, checking facebook again, and just basically wanting to get out of here on time to go see him again.  
She looked like a little over excited when at exactly five o'clock she shut off her computer, grabbed her purse and said goodbye to a busy and stressed Seb, to run and have another cup and a chat with John. Of course as friends, nothing else, also...the coffee was good.

Oh man, Missy was falling slowly for him.

And the worst thing is that she didn't mind at all. She didn't feel scared of him. She felt scared of rejection. Of not being good enough for him. She wasn't everyone's first choice. She was just a plain woman with a long list of ex lovers and a little, tiny secret she wasn't so proud about, but she felt the urge to tell John, just as he had spilled his whole life to her, the man had a mysterious halo around him yet since yesterday she had felt herself capable of finding even more secrets inside him, his blue-grey eyes and thick eyebrows as well the lines around the corners of his mouth were like a signal of how much more this man has lived. MIssy wanted to know it all.

She parked her car on the other side of the street in front of the shop, hoping John would be able to see her, but with no luck she just got out and walked into the place.  
The smell of sugar, milk and coffee mixed around her this time, but underneath it she could sense another smell, like...candles?.

That's when she noticed that Clara was far into the shop fighting with a machine and there were customers only on the second floor. John was nowhere to be seen. There wasn't the smell of red wine she noticed yesterday. There only was soft music, classical music to be exact, and that new smell underneath everything...

-"Missy Saxon. I fairly thought you wouldn't come back".

When she turned around she found John sitting on the same table as yesterday, one red cup in hand and in front of him one of those famous large (venti) starbucks drink, John's smile as wide as a cat's. She walked over to him slowly, steadying her feet on her high heels and sitting down on the very same place as she did yesterday.

-"And yet you were so brave to spend money on your rival and sit there waiting for me".

-"Well, a man can hope, right? I mean, you didn't tell me any more about you. But I imagined the basics and judging your taste in beverages, I could form my opinion of you".

-"I don't like how it sounds. But what kind of opinion you have of me?".

-"My opinion on you is that I want to get to know you more. Then see if the other thoughts in my mind are correct."

-"And how do you exactly plan on getting to know me more?".

-"Accept having dinner with me".

-"Here? in your establishment?".

-"Or we could go to a fancy restaurant with a french waitress and expensive champagne which sounds as posh and ridiculous as ever."

-"Oh no. Here is better."

-"So, is it a date MIssy?"

-"I do think it is".

He pushed the plastic cup towards her, the smell of chocolate and more sugar she could tolerate filling her senses.

-"Well, to be fair, I was kidding about the sweet stuff. I just wanted a coffee made by you".

-"Maybe that would be for the third date".

-"What makes you think that after dinner I would go on a second date with you?"

-"That this is our first date and dinner tomorrow is the second one."

-"As long as I remember, people ask first for a date. They don't only set it and hope for the other person to randomly appear".

-"It was a lucky shot I guess. But a good one."

-"You're a strange man, John Smith".

-"With the most common name of all the world."

-"Yet that makes you interesting."

John smiled and leaned over the table, biting his lip and raising an eyebrow.

-"Am I interesting to you?".

-"Yes."

If there was something to love and hate at the same time about Missy is how sincere she can be. And of course that has brought her more problems.

-"You're something else MIssy Saxon. You had only told me what you wanted me to hear. I know there's something else behind those bright eyes."

-"You're right, I guess, but I don't want to talk about it today. I don't want to spoil our date".

Her wink to him, and the way his eyes lightened up and he licked her lips, were just enough for Missy to know that there would be more dates.

The message was clear. Stay here.


	4. The Luck of a Single Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy it! all reviews are welcome!

Well, to be fair, John was happy on how it turned out the "first" date with Missy. 

She was definitely a special, unique woman, and she had this halo around her that provoked a small shiver to run down his spine and ask himself what made him so attracted to her. Apart from the obvious beauty. There was something else, like an magnet that pulled him towards her.

Of course, John was nervous of letting another woman into his heart, it wasn't easy and even if it's been around 7 years of Melody's death, it feelt like an eternity inside his head and heart. Also, at this point, how would Amelia take it? How would the Ponds take it?. Amelia could have a word over his life, after all, as his daughter, his decisions had an effect on her life or so he thought, even if she didn’t live with him, but she was a young pretty adult now and she could take care of herself. And at the end, it was his life and he had all the power to make a change on it. Even if it meant getting in trouble.

Trouble. Exactly. That was the word to explain what he felt for Missy. Trouble in his heart and mind, for the memory of a dead wife that would never come back, the trouble it meant to divide his life between a new woman and his daughter, and the trouble of having to start over again. Telling small details of his person, like favourite movie, favourite colour and maybe even his favourite brand of wine. Not that he drank a lot of alcohol, but from time to time it was a good idea to keep a bottle near him. Anyway, Trouble. To start falling in love with someone each day with every small detail he could find, and then having to live with the thought at the back of his mind that someday he would be not in love with her and he would ask himself why he was there by her side and he would start to hate all those details that made him fall in love with her.. Always looking at the negative side of things, thinking the worst as if it could ever help him to hide from the danger, but John wanted to protect his heart from any damage this new woman could cause.  
But with Missy, at the same time he felt as if there was no need of saying all of this stuff, it was as if she could read him completely, and if he was being honest with himself, that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted a mature woman to understand him, to be his equal and companion, not only a meaningless night of loneliness fulfilled with love words that were complete lies and caresses that didn’t show any emotion. Missy wasn’t that kind of woman, surely their first encounter showed him that she wanted to get something serious in life, not just go around getting in as many beds as she could. Missy was like that kind of woman you only get to see once in life. Two, if you count on Melody. There were things that he could match between them.

And yet, there was some kind of mystery in her icy blue eyes, bright, hypnotising look that held a secret, and he, as the always curious man he was, wanted to know it all, he wanted to know what bothered Missy Saxon, what kind of thing was she hiding?, if it was a bad thing, a sad thing? Maybe a difficult past. And we all have had difficulties in the past, but those kind of things made us what we are in the present. Missy was full of invisible scars that stitched together a strong woman with power and intelligence.  
But right now he had toher things to occupy his mind, like the memories of the night before, and how it was a good start, he had found ways of making her laugh almost every second and it was a good signal (at least for him) that she liked him. Women don’t laugh at people who creep them. So a laughing Missy was like scoring 10 points. They talked about (exactly) that kind of stuff that you usually don't talk about in your first date. Past relationships. Past hurtful things in life, The loss of their parents. How they were as kids and what kind of expectations they had now in life, past the childish thoughts of being millionaire. 

It felt natural, like two good friends that hadn't seen each other in a long time. Except that he didn't want their interaction to end up as friendship.  
If he was honest with himself, he was absolutely confident actually, that he could seduce Missy tonight on their second date and bring her back home. But he wasn't that kind of man. He wanted to get to know her better, he wanted to do with her all that kind of ridiculous things young couples do. He wasn't that old, mind you, but as the months passed, he felt the weight on his back heavier. And when she said her age, the difference for barely a few years (not more than ten, thank god) the gap didn't feel so big. But yet he wanted to take her to the movies, buy her ice cream and then get it all over her face. He wanted to walk around the city at 1 am talking about nonsense and he wanted to watch a horror movie with her just to have an excuse to hug her tighter to him. Ah, good-old fashioned John.

Smothering his blue shirt (not in the same colour as her eyes, definitely no) and tight black trousers, he went back to "Twelve Cups" at 10:30 p.m. to wait for her.  
He was a gentleman, but Missy didn't want to be picked up so he respected her wishes. After all maybe she didn't want him to know where she lives until she's assured he is not a murderer. Maybe the only thing he would really like to murder is that horrible smell of monday mornings and bills to pay.

At exactly 10:46 he got a text from her (thank god he could get her phone number at least) telling him about her arrival at the shop.

John simply had to turn down the music to a low volume and go open the back door for her. Jesus...this evening was going to be very long if John kept his mind running in circles.

-"I'm so sorry for making you enter from there, but you know, I don't want anyone else noticing the place open and come to ruin our night".

He kissed her cheek, holding her hand and closing the door. With the light of the back kitchen he could finally see her completely, and what she had selected to wear definitely took his breath away.

He wasn't surprised to see her using a dark, purple long skirt (not that long, but it was above her ankles. Pretty ankles too. Since when are ankles interesting?) and a white shirt buttoned up to the neck, dark heels and her beautiful, wavy hair down to her shoulders, the make up only reaffirming her factions, the high cheekbones, so delicate yet strong, the infamous blue eyes that definitely didn't match his shirt and her red lips.

-"No problem really John, don't make a fuss about it. But oh dear, it smells divine".

-"Nah, come on, I just made pasta and my specially baked apple pie with soft crust".

-"So you don't only psychoanalyze people, you also bake? Man, you're one to keep".

Her comment only worked to make them both blush as he walked her to the front of the establishment, decorated with scented candles.

He pulled out the chair of the only table at the mere center, adorned with a single rose in a vase and a soft pink tablecloth.

Missy simply grinned, loving to have the complete attention from John, his long delicate fingers barely brushing her shoulder and his breath on her ear as he leant down to whisper softly.

-"You look so beautiful darling you'll make the flower hide ashamed of their appearance."

-"Don't be so...daft John. Shut up."

Was her only reply, when she turned her head he was gone, fussing with a spoon and serving the food in the bright silver plates.

He came back a few minutes later, with the food warm and a bottle of red and one of white one.

-"Which one dear?".

-"Oh well...to start? red please."

After he finally sit down, the dinner went well, making conversation about the good food, making jokes of a man that could cook so well and generally a man as (perfect) as John.

-"So, dear, tell me with utter honesty, what are your intentions towards me?"-

-"What do you mean Missy?".

-"How long will you wait to shag me?".

Thank God John could contain himself and didn't splutter the wine all over her.

-"Missy don't say that! Of course I have other kind of intentions with you?".

-"Answer my question, John Smith. How long will you wait to get in my pants?"

-"As long as it takes. It's your choice".

Seeming satisfied with that answer Missy continued eating. But John could only think about the image he was giving her. Was he a desperate man in her eyes? What if he has made sexual innuendos all the way since their first chat and he didn't catch them?. After all, flirting with her was easy, the woman could even flirt with a tree and it would blush.

When both finished the pasta he got up and took their plates. He came back with the pie and clean plates to serve her a portion and one for himself.

The sinful sound she made in the first bite was enough to know what kind of game she wanted to play.

-"Mm...John this is so good! The texture is divine and the smell so inviting and the taste! My god John, the taste of this!. I am so keeping you."

-"I'm glad you're liking it dear, your little expressions tell me all I need to know".

Two can play this, right?

-"You know, for one reserved man, you are so different to what I had in mind."

-"And what did you have in mind?".

-"An old, boring man that looks like an owl. Have you seen yourself on a mirror?"

-"Shut up".

-"See? Grumpy owl."

She smiled and he only scowled.

The first bottle of wine was over and he felt pleasantly tipsy, comfortable with her presence (comfy, comfy way to spend the night) and she was looking the very same as he imagined he looked himself. Wild hair and wide pupils, the attraction was so obvious in her body language.

-"What are your intentions towards me, Missy Saxon?."

-"I'm not sure. I like you, and maybe I'd like to kiss you. But at the same time I want to explore a shop of old vinyls with you."

-"We can do that for the third date?"

-"I thought the third date was to do the do."

-"Again? Missy I'm not looking to shag you".

-"Then I'm not pretty enough for you?"

-"I didn't mean that, you're beautiful. I think I have said it before."

-"Yes you have. I just wanted to hear it again."

-"Maybe yes, we can end up in bed, but that's only your decision. You decide the time, the place and the way."

-"So I get to choose the position we do it?."

-"if that's what you want. Why are we talking about this?"

-"Because I like you, John. I like you so much it scares me."

-"But if it scares you then it isn't a good thing."

-"I'm not scared in that way darling. I'm scared of falling over the tallest roof and how much it would hurt to hit the floor."

-"And if you never hit the floor?"

-"It will mean I never jumped."

John could only lift his hand and reach for her across the table, lacing their fingers together and squeezing her hand gently.

-"Do you want to jump?"

-"Yes."

-"Then do it."

-"Will you jump with me?."

Silence. Of course.

Why did the bloody man get her all worked up and excited to get into something new when he couldn't do it?. She knew she had to be patient, but not now that she has admitted her feelings and he has just throw them in the garbage. Bloody, infuriating...

-"I think I have already jumped."

-"Why didn't you tell me?"

-"I thought the starbucks thing talked itself"

-"The sugary thing? God no, I got sick of only watching it. I jumped the moment you squeezed my hand."

He simply smiled, squeezing her petite hand again.

-"I'm falling hard, Missy Saxon. I don't want to hit the pavement."

-"Neither do I. But we should make things go easier and slower. I asked that silly thing just to test you. I never get in bed with strangers."

-"Am I a stranger now?"

-"Not now. But still, you won't get into my knickers for a long time."

-"Fine then. But as you said, third dates are to do the do."

Missy simply chuckled, nodding and now squeezing his hand in return.

They talked again about their childhood memories, teaching John a good lesson. Even if he didn't want to make the little chat meeting someone new about himself, and the things he liked and the things he had made, with Missy it was easy to talk about his life in other kind of aspects. She didn't want to bother her with things that didn't matter in that moment, he knew she was an interesting woman so an interesting talk was required. Nothing too deep, nothing too political. Just a talk about the things that were important to both in their lives.

It was well past midnight when she closed her eyes and took a breath, biting her lip and smiling softly.

-"I think I have to say goodnight now. I'm feeling funny things with the lot of wine we drank."

-"Did you like this dinner?."

-"We have to repeat, yes. Maybe next time I can cook for you."

-"I'd love that. But is hard to imagine you all housewife mood."

-"Who said anything about housewife? No, no. I'm not housewife material."

-"Then? what kind of material are you?"

-"I'm material of a good, strong wife. Pretty, by the way. Not exactly good with children, but I guess I'm not on the train to have them anymore"

-"You'll never know. Maybe it is in your destiny to have a baby."

-"Do you want to be in that future John?."

-"I...I don't know. Maybe. Could be. Definitely...a maybe."

-"Shut up idiot, I was joking. We'll see what happens later. But for now I have to go home."

-"You can't drive in this state."

-"Yes I can."

-"No. Let me take you home."

-"Don't worry John. I'll be fine."

-"How stubborn you are. Fine. But when you arrive home safely please text me."

-"I will."

They both stood up at the same time, Missy putting the napkin on the table and taking her small purse.

John walked her over to the back door of the shop, opening the door for her and seeing her car, memorising it. Maybe he will need this information later.  
Missy closed the door again, as she didn't bring a coat the chilly air of Glasgow freezing her arms.

She stood here with John, swallowing gently and biting her lip, fiddling with the strap of the purse.

-"So...in a scale from 1 to 10, how was this date?."

-"Twelve."

-"Silly man. Come here..."

He didn't even need it said a second time, leaning down with her and meeting her soft lips halfway.

The kiss was soft, gentle, nothing rushed.

She pressed her lips against his in a quite sensual way, showing him affection and a hint of lust and the promise of more to come, her breathing mixing with his own and making his blood boil in need of something more. The kiss was creating in him a hole only Missy Saxon could fill, with her slim fingers tangling themselves on his hair and barely pulling, her lips being persistent and demanding, her tongue licking behind his teeth and almost making his knees give up. He only pushed her back against the wall behind her and kept her in place, his own mouth wanting and taking more from her, his own tongue seeking entrance in her mouth and making her moan softly.

Being her naughty self, she couldn't resist biting gently his lower lip and suck it into her mouth before pulling away slowly, finally noticing how her hands had wrapped around his neck and nails ranked through his scalp, and his own arms around her waist, crushing her small body between the wall and his own body.  
The blush on his cheeks and his dilated pupils were the perfect sight for her, smirking a little she leant up on tiptoes again to press a final peck against his lips. He slowly let go of her, sighing softly.

She opened the door again, shivering in the mix of the cold air of the night and the warmth John's body provided. She smiled one last time, grazing her lip with her teeth and watching how his eyes focused there.

-"Goodnight, John."


	5. The Mistery of the Purple Scarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start getting misterious...and hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry i haven't updated in ages...but I promise I will resume to do so!

Air drumming was one of the things that John kept from his band days.

But he played the lead guitar and also lead vocals. Oh. How things change.

Air drumming while waiting for Melody to finish getting her heair ready. Air drumming while waiting for her at the altar. Air drumming while waiting for Amelia to be born. Air drumming while waiting for Melody’s funeral to end. Air drumming while waiting for Missy to come back to his arms...

As one week passed quickly in Missy's company (without the third date happening yet) he was growing used to feeling a bit younger now. Remembering those days when he didn't have much to care about but for buying enough gel and cigarettes. Later, much later, life changed for good and he had to worry for buying nappies and small clothes and how to pay a house big enough for them and the pressure of having a scottish mother-in-law. Now he understood why his british girlfriends were afraid of his mother. How things change.

Yes, he was scottish himself...but do you know how to deal with a scottish mother-in-law?. Nope. Nope. Nope.

But, now recalling the past week in his life, he can say he's proud of himself. Making silly faces and giving Missy free drinks (under Clara's glare though) and being completely besotted with her now.

He was beyond an innocent crush. He was now in the next stage of the whole process of falling in love and, even if he didn't want to admit it, he wanted this to happen. He wanted to remember how to love and be loved again. He wanted everything now.

Last night he had a skype session with Amelia, his daughter. She was a nice girl. Beyond nice actually. She had taken after the genetics of her mother's family (thank god, he didn't want to imagine a ginger girl with his eyebrows and the nose he got.) and being, well, ginger, quite tall and skinny, with a sharp jaw and strong, green eyes, just as her mother's. Amelia was the living copy of her grandmother.

The difficult years had passed now. The years that turned even more hard for both without Melody to look after them. Those years of getting up early in the morning, check on Amelia,send her to school, put the kettle on and picking the newspaper, life going into circles without an ending and beginning nor a way out, more stressful each day that passed and actually...dull days. Dull way to live. Melody would have hated that.

Using new technologies wasn't John's best skill, but he was in need of a way to communicate with his daughter, Clara and now Missy.

The skype call went very well if he could say so, Amelia talking excitedly about a tv spot offer she had for girly clothes and how Rory and Amy had "an intense night" even if they were so old. Said night ended with Rory snoring and Amy throwing pillows at him. The Ponds could be over 100 years and they would be the cutest couple he knew. Second one actually, him and Melody were a perfect match as well. So is Missy and he now. Oh dear...

It was time to say goodnight when John had the brilliant idea of bringing Missy into conversation. Actually, he had to, he wanted Amelia to know what was happening, what could even happen.

-"Amelia...would you be mad if I...if...well you know what I'm trying to say don't you?

-"Have you found another girl dad?"

-"Yeah...she's called Missy and...and she's pretty and very clever". Damn, she’s hot Melody’s brains.

-"Is she my age?"

-"Of course not! Missy is at least 7 years younger than me!"

-"Well that's good. I don't want to share my make up or skirts with your new wife!"

-"Amelia! I'm being serious! And stop saying those ridiculous things! I mean...Missy is an adult, she has a job and even if she fits in your dresses, I'm not going to marry her!"

-"That's what you said about mum..."

-"Stop believing what Amy says"

-"She's my nan. I believe everything she says"

-"Not. Funny, Amelia Smith"

-"Oh, you have said my name. Things are getting serious then. What do you want with this woman...Missy. What a strange name by the way"

-"She had hippies as parents. I was a hippie, or so your mother said. And she was an archeologist. Be thankful we didn't name you Cleopatra or Isis or something like that"

-"Says the man with the most original name in the world. Dad, maybe you should open a contest to find someone with a boring name and befriend them."

-"Shut up or I ground you!"

-"Actually you can't...I'm miles away remember?"

-"I'm still your father, remember?"

They ended up laughing, after all, Amelia had inherited his humour and she understood him in the most fascinating and sarcastic ways.

-"So..yeah...answer my question, you’re not getting away from me. what do you want with Missy?"

-"I...I don't know...we have spent a very good time, she loves to read any kind of books, even some scientific ones...she loves movies about time travel and the same music as me, have I mentioned she's scottish?"

-"Now I can see why you like her. But promise me one thing."

-"Tell me Amelia...even though I'm not sure about that..."

-"Rule number one, as grandma says. Dad lies."

-"I'm going to have a serious talk with Amy."

-"Promise me I won't have to call Missy mother."

-"Oh. of course love, have my word. Also, I don't think she would be comfortable with that."

-"Good. And one last thing. If you ever take a girlfriend that is the same age as me, I'm not speaking to you ever again"

-"I promise firmly on that one. Never gonna happen."

-"Good. But it's time for me to sleep...goodnight dad. I love you"

-"I love you too Amelia."

He waited until she disconnected the call to turn off his laptop and go to lay back on bed.

He never answered directly her question.

What were his intentions towards Missy...?

A kiss had already happened yes, but nothing more. Light touches of their hands and lacing their fingers together, squeezing gently and small pecks on the cheek as hello and goodbye.

Not even on the corner of the lips.

It's true, John maybe wanted more from this, but he didn't want to seem desperate and Missy was an amazing woman to just bed and throw away.

Thinking about icy blue eyes and the way they sparkled when she spoke about things she loved, John Smith could find peace to sleep.

The next day had an interesting start.

He went exactly at 6:30 a.m. to open the shop when he noticed at the mere door a purple scarf on the ground and next to it a wet spot on the ground. It didn't look red, so he knew it wasn't blood, but it looked kind of...green?. Why would it matter? He wasn’t sure, it’s way too early for his mind to begin its proper functioning without coffee.  
He carefully picked the scarf and draped it over his shoulders so he could finally access the shop.

When Clara arrived the first thing he did was to ask about the spot.

-"And good morning to you too John..." She smirked slightly "There is no mysterious wet spots at the entrance. You’ve gone mad. Did you sleep well? Oh! Let me guess...Missy kept you up all night? Wait...no. I actually don’t want to know about that."

-"Yes I slept well...and no, you won’t get details of my sex life unless I want to bother you and finally...I swear there was a green spot next to this scarf. Not like if someone dropped tea or a milkshake or something like that. It looked like a jelly. and next to it I found a scarf. Well more like a ripped piece of cloth. "

-"You took an unknown thing that was next to a weird spot on the concrete? And you got it into the shop? Did your mother drop you as a baby?."

-"Maybe...but look...it wasn't a normal spot…”

-"Oi!"

-"Something inside me tells me it is a body fluid..."

-"Shut up right there. I want to take breakfast at peace."

Clara walked further inside the shop leaving John and his mind running wildly through all the possibilities.

The day went on, usual customers, new customers that he had a chat with, Danny coming over to have a quick lunch with Clara (please just lunch, please...we have to keep everything clean) and at around six p.m. Missy appeared.

John walked over to the entrance to greet her, but more decided about the path he wanted to walk in their relationship (not sexual, but he wanted her to know he was a man, and interested in her) he actually walked over to her and without giving her chance to speak he placed his hands on her waist and kissed her softly.

The customers and even Clara cheered and laughed, looking at them with big, idiotic smiles on their faces. When he pulled back Missy was blushing bright red and giggling nervously, hiding her face into his chest as her arms found their way around his body, keeping him close to her.

-"What was that John?"

-"A kiss. It's an old fashioned way for a man to reclaim a woman, crashing of lips and even use of tongues..."

-"Stop right there please. Thank you."

Everyone clapped one last time as John led her to their usual table and sat down with her.

-"Something strange happened this morning."

-"Strange in what sense?"

-"There was a piece of cloth and a wet patch on the entrance of the shop. Like...a body fluid. It actually looked like jelly…”

-"Was it blood?! Did you call the police?!"

-"Ah...no...not humanly at least. I don’t really know how alien blood looks like. And nope, no police in my shop. I actually took this thing...it looked like a scarf, do you want to see it?"

-"Ehh...No thanks John. But don't think about it for too long, maybe it was food or something else..."

-"No..it wasn't food...it didn't even smell...but I think it has another meaning..."

If something good had John Smith was the passion he put into things. The same passion he had for his shop, his daughter, acquiring more knowledge and always knowing some new facts to amaze her. Not that she was a woman easy to impress, but John had a way to captivate her and make her listen to even his most absurd thoughts. Like that one time he wanted to investigate the meat factories to know if he hasn't eaten a rat by mistake.

-"Missy....Missy?"

-"Oh yes John...what was the last thing you said?"

-"You weren't listen?! I'm not saying it all again!"

-"Well then why don't you go make us a drink eh? Look at poor Clara all exhausted"

-"She's exhausted because Danny came earlier."

-"Oh my god John! I didn’t need to know that!."

He simply smirked thinking on the fun game of words he did and whi she chastised him, he stood up and walked back to the kitchen to make them both a beverage.

If someone asked Missy Saxon right now, what does love smell like, she would answer coffee.

The thing was that, as the silly woman she was, she had already fallen in love with John Smith and the way his long fingers fiddled about, his silver curls atop his head looked so soft and his rather exotic taste in clothes. He would go from extremely formal with trousers and waistcoats from simple white shirts with skeletons on it.

John wasn't the usual kind of man she met at the evening galas at her work, nor he was that kind of egotistical, empty man she had encountered in her life.

He was a walking encyclopedia, a fabulous tornado that was destroying the little sense she still had. And she didn’t mind.

She wanted him to make a move on her, to make her feel involved in the passion he put in other aspects of his life, she wanted to burn with him in the fire of love and lust and let sparks fly between them when their skin came in contact. Well, the last thing actually is real. Every time he took her hand in his she could feel their skin reacting to the chemistry they had, how from cold she would go, to feel her whole body warm and buzz pleasantly from all his attentions. He was a gentleman that always pulled the chair for her, stood up when she did and never asked too much. Missy loved that, because even if she was in love, she didn't want to tell him everything right now.

The kiss surprised her, she wasn't expecting it right now, it had been a week since that second date and he kissed her on the back door of the place he so loved. And now she was fond of this shop too, of this small, precious place that brought a new sense into her life, a new hope of love and a new friend. A new way to spend her afternoons and to learn how to love again.

John came back with their drinks, he placed them on the table then sat down again in front of her.

-"I was thinking...maybe we should start planning our third date..."

-"How adventurous of you John, I could have sworn you would have asked me differently to do that kind of thing...I'm not an easy girl"

-"Missy! I didn't mean it that way! Is just that I wanted to know if you already had something in mind...because I know of a good place I'd like to take you."

-"I was kidding John...gosh I thought from our last kiss that you would take me right here right now."

-"Maybe that could be arranged for the fifth date."

-"You’re so silly."

-"And you’re pretty."

John grinned and winked at her, sipping his hot cappuccino and humming softly.

He couldn't stop thinking in the scarf, he was so sure it could mean something more than a forgotten piece of clothing, the green patch wasn't normal as it didn't look like food or shampoo or anything like the things Clara told him it could be...He was an old idiot man to think about that small cloth when he had right in front of him the woman that had stolen his sleep hours. Idiot, really.

If he could recall correctly, Missy hasn't told him much about her life, just small snippets of information that were pieces of a big puzzle that was hidden beneath the surface. But that was what made her attractive, he felt that he would need more than three dates to complete the puzzle Missy Saxon was.

From the way she spoke, walked, dressed and even laughed, John could feel there was something else around her, like an invisible pull towards her that made everyone turn their heads towards her.

He had already looked her up on the internet, and found pretty basic information about her and the same snippets she had already given him.

His train of thought lasted two more hours in between worrying about the scarf, the taste of Missy's lips and the idea of what else he could do now to impress her, to keep her close and interested in him.

The working day was over and he didn't realise it until Clara called him to check the money count of the day and he noticed a sleepy Missy looking through the books. It was 10 pm now? How had he lost track of time? No, it didn’t really feel like lost hours, he had talked with Missy about everything and nothing, from what end she would have given "The Shinning" from the conspiracy of a dead Paul McCartney.

He sent Clara off smiling and waving her off, she just winked back at him and waved to Missy and left with her big bag of cosmetics and books.

-"What are we gonna do now John?"

-"I want you to see the scarf"

-"If I do will you throw it away?"

Rule Number One, John Smith lies.

-"Yes of course dear."

-"Good, show it then."

John went back to kitchen to retrieve it when he saw the damned purple scarf was gone.

-"Oh no...Clara threw it away!"

-"Maybe it was for the best John! It could have been infected with something and you easily took it in without thinking about the risks."

-"But Missy! It could mean something else!"

-"If we see another purple scarf then it will mean something!"

-"Fine...let's go..."

Missy took her purse and walked with him to the back door, but before he could open the door she bumped her hip with his, causing him to turn towards her and she kissed him quite roughly pushing him against the wall. Their lips met in this new different kind of battle for dominance, he was fighting back with all he's got and Missy was melting against him, her resolution dissolving as she tasted him again. She pulled back breathlessly, grinning from ear to ear and still caressing John's back and neck with her perfectly painted red long nails.

-"Good night John...I'll see you tomorrow"

-"Good night Missy..."

Both stepped out of the shop, blissfully unaware of the strange shadow watching them from the second floor of the building in front of the establishment, holding a small, way much smaller purple piece of clothe than the one John picked up in the morning


End file.
